“I'm selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best.”
I was colorblind to the glaring red flags, blinded by the fact that I was in love with a man that no longer existed. The pieces chipped slowly away, almost without my knowledge, until I found myself considering adding those all important pieces of myself to the pile, the pieces that make me, me. The ones I have worked so hard to own, the ones that I'm proud of, and those that I swore I would never give up for anyone. But the moment I considered it, the moment he asked for them, I knew I went to far....
I knew something didn't feel right almost immediately but I've gotten very good at ignoring those feelings and chalking them up to an inevitable casualty of monogomy. But they aren't. The first 2 days of Beni's return were exactly what they were supposed to be, a loving, sex-induced coma, then kind that distracts you from any real thoughts. But by mid-week, I had committed the cardinal sin of trust, like many women confused and insecure, I went through his phone. I didn't find exactly what I was looking for but it was a clear red flag, it was a behavior I never gave in to before that moment, despite many men in my dating past that deserved it. Then two days later, there I was crying in his bed again. I don't think I'm much of a crier, at least not until recently. I had spent 2 hours playing cards with Beni and his cousins, 2 hours of being ignored, 2 hours of being talked over, and 2 hours of feeling completely disconnected with the man I have spent my whole London life with. It wasn't so much the talking it was the realisation that there wasn't much left. But I ignored it again, luckily or unluckily he didn't. He said nothing until the next day, despite the reassurances of his love to silence my tears, he was confused, and on the verge of leaving me...again.
There are only so many times, you can go back and forth before all hope and trust are lost. We reached that point yesterday. We tried more times than I care to remember to delay the inevitable, we even spent the night before cuddled up in each others loving arms but all things will come to a breaking point. The last 6 months, he has asked for everything and gave nothing in return. His fear and cultural pressures have placed me last and left him a shell, without even so much of a hint of the man I fell in love with.
When he said we could only be together if I never went to a friends house without him, I knew it went to far, he said he knew I would never listen to him but it was a demand that I am not willing to give into, nor should I. It was one of many comments lately. I was more than willing to assimialte, to understand, and to compromise for the idea of love but at what point do I lose everything. I didn't want it to end this way, if I'm honest I didn't want it to end at all, I still wanted him to be my Eat, Pray, Love man. And through all my anger and hurt, I still feel sorry for him. He wants nothing, he tries for nothing, and has given up, all of which leads to a very sad, depressing existence. I will not and cannot be a happy Albanian housewife, content with a roof over my head and nothing more. I want more, I want to be surprised, I want adventure, I want a debate partner, I want someone who inspires me. If that person exists for me, it won't be Beni, sadly.
But I started this journey with nothing, with no one but myself. I know it will be lonely and hard but I also know it will not be harder than it was the first time, afterall London is my home now too....not even Beni can take that away from me.
I was colorblind to the glaring red flags, blinded by the fact that I was in love with a man that no longer existed. The pieces chipped slowly away, almost without my knowledge, until I found myself considering adding those all important pieces of myself to the pile, the pieces that make me, me. The ones I have worked so hard to own, the ones that I'm proud of, and those that I swore I would never give up for anyone. But the moment I considered it, the moment he asked for them, I knew I went to far....
I knew something didn't feel right almost immediately but I've gotten very good at ignoring those feelings and chalking them up to an inevitable casualty of monogomy. But they aren't. The first 2 days of Beni's return were exactly what they were supposed to be, a loving, sex-induced coma, then kind that distracts you from any real thoughts. But by mid-week, I had committed the cardinal sin of trust, like many women confused and insecure, I went through his phone. I didn't find exactly what I was looking for but it was a clear red flag, it was a behavior I never gave in to before that moment, despite many men in my dating past that deserved it. Then two days later, there I was crying in his bed again. I don't think I'm much of a crier, at least not until recently. I had spent 2 hours playing cards with Beni and his cousins, 2 hours of being ignored, 2 hours of being talked over, and 2 hours of feeling completely disconnected with the man I have spent my whole London life with. It wasn't so much the talking it was the realisation that there wasn't much left. But I ignored it again, luckily or unluckily he didn't. He said nothing until the next day, despite the reassurances of his love to silence my tears, he was confused, and on the verge of leaving me...again.
There are only so many times, you can go back and forth before all hope and trust are lost. We reached that point yesterday. We tried more times than I care to remember to delay the inevitable, we even spent the night before cuddled up in each others loving arms but all things will come to a breaking point. The last 6 months, he has asked for everything and gave nothing in return. His fear and cultural pressures have placed me last and left him a shell, without even so much of a hint of the man I fell in love with.
When he said we could only be together if I never went to a friends house without him, I knew it went to far, he said he knew I would never listen to him but it was a demand that I am not willing to give into, nor should I. It was one of many comments lately. I was more than willing to assimialte, to understand, and to compromise for the idea of love but at what point do I lose everything. I didn't want it to end this way, if I'm honest I didn't want it to end at all, I still wanted him to be my Eat, Pray, Love man. And through all my anger and hurt, I still feel sorry for him. He wants nothing, he tries for nothing, and has given up, all of which leads to a very sad, depressing existence. I will not and cannot be a happy Albanian housewife, content with a roof over my head and nothing more. I want more, I want to be surprised, I want adventure, I want a debate partner, I want someone who inspires me. If that person exists for me, it won't be Beni, sadly.
But I started this journey with nothing, with no one but myself. I know it will be lonely and hard but I also know it will not be harder than it was the first time, afterall London is my home now too....not even Beni can take that away from me.
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